


#14 - Skeletons

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Eurovision 2017 Fanfic Challenge [30]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Childhood Abuse, Communication, Drug Withdrawal, M/M, Working things out, brief homophobic language, ed and oswald seriously need to just sit down and have a conversation alright?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: Oswald's quest to exact revenge on Ed comes to a halt when he realizes how much damage the drugs had already done. Trying to decide if he should help Ed through the withdrawal is difficult enough without interruption from a decidedly unsavory figure of Ed's past.





	#14 - Skeletons

**Author's Note:**

> I have little experience with actual drugs, but many of you may be familiar with the campaign against sugar due to excessive addictive properties. A few years ago, I developed a sugar (ice cream, specifically) addiction in which my access to ice cream was the sole factor in whether or not I felt happy on a given day. The withdrawal symptoms I gave Ed in this are based roughly on what I felt when I broke that addiction. My experience with abuse is limited to research alone.

Oswald's revenge-revenge had lasted a total of three days. Betrayal had never been enough to change his mind on anything, especially when emotions were involved, and the state Ed was in was quite frankly shocking. As much confidence as Ed might have in his own willpower, drug withdrawal was a physical issue at least as much as it was a mental one.

When he had secured Ed to a chair in the Riddler's own safehouse, he still hadn't decided whether to exploit this weakness or to offer his assistance. He sat across from Ed's limp body for over an hour before the other man stirred, immediately panicking as he took in his position. Oswald felt his stomach churn and he knew then what choice he would make. Normally he enjoyed the fear he instilled in people, but the concept of Ed being afraid of him only made him ill. He didn't know everything from Ed's previous life - very little, actually - but the poor boy had been through enough, especially regarding interpersonal relations.

"What..? I..?" Ed shook his head, trying to clear it. His body screamed for the high he was missing, his brain having started to adapt to the rush and refusing to work properly without it. Yet if he wasn't high, how was he seeing Oswald? Not to mention, who had tied him up? Unless...

"Are you real?"

Oswald sighed. This would have been easier if Ed weren't slurring every other word.

"Yes. For someone who has spent as much time around bodies as you have, you really know how to miss all the vital organs."

"You... survived?"

" _Yes_ ," Oswald leaned back in his chair. This was going to take awhile

"So you're here to... kill... me?"

"Not particularly, no," Oswald mused. Ed tensed, "Fair enough."

"Hmm?"

"After what I did to you. I suppose you feel death would be too quick. Too kind."

"Oh, no, friend. My intentions towards you are entirely harmless. I am only here for a chat."

Ed frowned, looking down at himself, "And the rope-zip tie combo?"

"I'm familiar with your skills. No locks to pick and no tricks to escape with this method."

"I meant why am I tied up?"

"Oh, I wasn't positive you'd be, well, _amiable_ to a chat."

Ed was silent. Oswald watched him carefully, eager to discover the depth of Ed's condition and assess the amount of favors he'd be owed for healing him. Sure, Oswald would have done it out of the goodness of his heart, but did Ed need to know that? Nah.

"I am made in the past, felt in the present, and amended in the future. You earn me when you make mistakes and I can both follow you and lead you to the grave. What am I?"

"Don't speak in riddles, please. If we want to end this feud, and I certainly do, we need to know plainly where the other stands," Oswald sighed.

"Regret. You were in the wrong, and you deserved some of what you got, but I regret most of it. I should have confronted you from the beginning, instead of escalating things."

Oswald raised his eyebrows, "This is going significantly easier than I expected. You're one of few people with the capability to surprise me, my friend."

"Are we?"

"Are we what?"

"Friends. Now, I mean," Ed asked, and maybe Oswald was imagining things, but he sounded hopeful.

"That depends. You hurt me, Ed. And I guess I hurt you, too. We've both made mistakes that could have been easily avoided, and if we go right back to where we were, we'll do the same again. I am not willing to subject myself to that. We-"

He was cut off by a knock at the door.

"Were you expecting company?"

Ed shook his head, and Oswald noticed he used considerable effort. He was struggling to focus again. Perhaps he needed some coffee.

Grabbing the pistol from inside his jacket, Oswald hobbled to the door, peering through the peephole.

"Some ragged old man. He doesn't appear to be selling anything."

When Ed didn't reply, Oswald glanced back to see him slumped over in his bonds, one hand twitching and chest rising but otherwise still. He shrugged. Couldn't hurt to find out what the bum wanted. Chances are he was a half-drunk hitman hired by some low-level criminal to take out the Riddler. Oswald could handle that.

The door swung open and the man stared at him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"This place is my business, and you're in it."

"Eloquent."

"Huh?"

"Irrelevant. Who are _you_?" Oswald inquired, peering up at the man who stood a good few inches above himself, but still shorter than Ed.

"I'm here for Edward."

Oswald's hand clenched around the pistol, but he didn't remove it yet.

"I'm taking him to an exorcist."

Oswald blinked once. Then twice. Then he burst out laughing, "You cannot be serious, friend. Who do you think you are?"

"Someone with more authority here than you. I'm his father."

Huh. Now that he was confronted with the man, Oswald found he couldn't recall a single time Ed had mentioned his family. Oswald constantly reminisced about his parents, two of the most wonderful people this world had ever had the pleasure of knowing, but Ed? Not once. He knew absolutely nothing about the man in front of him, not even if he was telling the truth.

"We'll see about that. If you are family, though, I suppose you can come in," he couldn't really imagine what it would be like to not love one's family, although he was instinctively wary of this fellow.

The man stopped in the center of the living room, staring at Ed, "Why is he tied up? You're not doing some weird twink thing, are you?"

Oswald laughed outwardly, seething on the inside, "Not at all. Ed's fallen on some hard times with addiction. I'm helping him with the withdrawal."

"Huh. Always knew the freak would end up drugged up in some back alley someday. Knew he'd end up a psycho murderer, too. He's always been off, you know, perfect target for demons."

_Ugh_. Oswald couldn't decide whether he felt more hatred at the man's description of Ed or disdain at his idiotic notions. He wondered whether Ed would mind if he killed _this_ relic of his past. He should probably ask first this time. After all, that was what they had just been discussing.

Oswald was spared more disgusting "small talk" by Ed's stirring. As he caught sight of the new addition to the room, he frantically leaned back in his chair as if trying to get away. His mouth opened seemingly to scream but all that emerged was a terrified whimper.

"Oh shut up, boy," Ed's father moved forward faster than Oswald would have thought him capable and struck Ed across the face, "Or whatever evil spirit is inside you. See how much trouble your cocky attitude has gotten you into? Don't you wish you'd listened to me?"

Ed turned his face away, memories mixing with the craving induced madness as he absurdly tried to hide.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, YOU LITTLE-"

When he was cut off abruptly, Ed peered out from the safety of his shoulder to find Oswald standing over the collapsed form of his father.

"That was _quite_ enough of _that_ ," Oswald muttered, lowering his cane. He turned to Ed, "Don't worry, he's just unconscious. We'll deal with him however you like."

Ed merely stared, already broken brain unable to form even the simplest sentence.

"So this is your skeleton in the closet?" Oswald asked, knowing that the best thing for Ed would be to fill the silence, normalize the situation, "I mean, apart from the literal ones. I already knew about those."

He continued to rummage around, voicing whatever came to mind as he untied Ed and led him to the comfort of the couch. Ed's father was moved to the chair and tied down, definitely tighter than Ed had been, since Oswald didn't really care about this asshole's circulation, and certainly not his comfort.

"I want him dead."

Oswald spun around to look at Ed who had managed to pull himself into a standing position. He looked more... stable.

"By my hands. And yours. We're even, Oswald. It's not like I could betray you again, even if I wanted to, which I don't. You know all my tricks now. I want us to be friends again, or maybe even more someday, if I haven't at least killed that part of you. This can be a turning point for us. You've shared your troubles, your dreams, your hopes and fears with me. Perhaps it's time I shared my skeletons with you."

"You know I'll always help you with them, if you wish it."

"I know. Thank you."

"Now let's help you work out some of that regret. I can tell you from experience that murder speeds up the healing process."

"Good to know."


End file.
